Assuming You're a Basshole
by suspensegirl
Summary: based off upcoming spoilers/theories/contemplations - Chuck let her move on while they were apart, b/c they weren't ready for each other - not yet. But when a Gossip Girl blast declares she's set to marry the French Prince, there's hell to pay. CB Oneshot


A/N: There's no point in apologizing for not updating things _again_ *is ever trying to update quickly*, but this is a oneshot I've had in my head for awhile. It's based off of theories/spoilers/contemplations that Louis will come back, hook up with Blair, and ask her to marry him – DB & CR assumed in the past.

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

…

Pissed off didn't even begin to cover it. He'd been sad, frustrated, and suicidal even at one point. Somehow what he was feeling now combined all three of them plus a very large dose of pissed off. So, they'd gone their separate ways for awhile, helping each other on occasion. He'd nearly lost Bass Industries. She'd lost Serena after her accidental drunken one-night stand with Humphrey. _Déjà vu anyone? _He wasn't too pleased about that one either, but since it'd been brushed past just as quickly as his manipulative sleeping around with Raina, he dismissed it with some great effort of willpower. But this? No. This was unacceptable. No way in _hell_ was he going to let her marry the _Prince_ of _France_. He was _allowed_ to be selfish and throw her fairytale dreams to the wind in this instance he told himself. They _belonged_ together. Him, her, _Chuck_ and _Blair_. Not this…this…_Louis_. Disgusting. Unacceptable. It was worse than his _Henry Prince_ title. It was worse than…just _everything_.

To keep himself from willingly charging into heavy tragic, he focused on how pissed off he was at her. She hadn't expected him to wait but he'd done it anyway. He hadn't fallen for a single other girl – as if he even could. He hadn't really dated anyone else. He'd slept around a bit, sure, but that was only to be expected, given his reputation and his natural instincts when not with Blair. Because he'd done all that, her meaningless less than a fling with Dan Humphrey didn't fire up his senses nearly as long as Blair's had with his much worse act with Jenny. But this was different. And it wasn't because she'd been dating the guy, because Blair Waldorf needed company, especially when she was at odds with her best friend. But, engagement? _Hell. No._ It was _them_. _They_ were going to end up together, _them_. And there was no possible way that in Blair's mind, they happened after she'd lived her life as a princess and decided to settle back down, divorce the prince, whatever – none of which he knew would happen if she actually went through with her accepted proposal and married the loser. Royalty or not, no prince could compare to _Chuck Bass_. No one could ever measure up to what they had. He would move Heaven and earth all over again to remind her of that fact if he had to.

He didn't even try to knock politely, drawl her name, or seduce her with the silvery sound of his voice on a cleverly crafted line. He held nothing back with the loud pounding he made on her bedroom door. When she didn't respond or open the door half a breath later, he turned the knob and opened the door forcefully. Overestimating the difficulty that storming into her room would be was a serious miscalculation on his part. The door was light and he nearly fell into the room when it opened so swiftly.

"Chuck," he heard her say casually as she strolled past him in the hallway, like nothing was out of the ordinary, like she hadn't just said _yes_, in sickness and in health, to the freaking prince of France. Like she wasn't at odds with anybody either.

He spun around, not taking a single second to think over the situation. Later he regretted the fact that he somehow could not catch up with her before she reached the bottom of the staircase, and that during this time his voice seemed unable to cooperate with him and he could only get out half-words.

"Blair," he said finally when they reached the foyer. She didn't look to be in a hurry, but she certainly was not giving him her undivided attention. She had a dress draped over one arm and her purse looped through the other. She was walking about the penthouse as if she was the queen of the world and everyone ought to fear her. She'd done this often, he knew, but this time it was _horrible_ because there was a real reason for her to act as such – real as in becoming the future princess of France.

"Blair!" he barked when she continued to pay no heed to him, even after he'd continued to follow her and try his best to get her attention. For some reason he'd gone from controlled to frantic. He was mad at her and very ready to pin this all on her breaking what he considered to be a sort of _someday_ promise last fall.

"What is it?" she sighed, turning to face him. She propped one hand on her hip and moved her purse to rest on the wrist of her other arm. He was not gaping, but she was not making time for him, she was not wanting to make time for him rather, and that made him panic even further. Because maybe she wasn't escaping to France because she hated herself, but she was still running away, despite their promise to each other. All of them had run away when they'd done what they thought was unthinkable, but none of them had had something hanging in the balance like they did. He hoped his nerves wouldn't ruin what he wanted to turn his visit into. He didn't know if she were leaving soon, but he didn't think he could hope for too much, not given their history.

He took a deep breath and walked over towards her. "Is it true?" he asked sternly.

She blinked. "Is what true?" she asked after too long a silence.

He steeled himself for a bucketload of patience and tried very hard to keep his hands turning into fists subtle. "_This_," he said, pulling out his phone and shoving the Gossip Girl Blast in her face. She took the phone from him and moved it a little farther from her face so she could read what it said. Clear as day shown the picture of Louis on bended knee, smiling up at her and holding open one of the most beautiful rings anyone in the _world_ could have ever seen. There were a few other pictures too – her squealing, them walking hand-in-hand, and also what appeared to be a new ring on her _engagement ring_ finger.

She looked back at his dark intent hazel eyes and held out his phone for him to take back. "They're not photoshopped if that's what you mean," she said. She ignored the helpless look on his face when he finally took his phone back. She sighed loudly, sounding extremely frustrated, like she knew what was going to happen, because there were signs with them – _warning bells_ more likely – and she'd seen a _bunch_ of them go off.

"Look, Chuck, I don't have time for this. My mother's having a big gala for her fashion show, and since I've been in training to be the next CEO of the company, it is simply mandatory that I be there." She brushed off some imaginary dust from the collar of her shirt. She smiled a wide, fake smile at him, and then proceeded to look only momentarily patient in waiting for him to respond to her.

It was something he didn't think he could do. He'd wanted her to deny the blast, to tell him he was overreacting, and that _of course_ she wouldn't break their non-promise promise. But that hadn't been the case after all, and now he was scared to death he was going to lose her for real.

"Blair," he said, shaking himself of his reverie and walking close enough to her to take her hands in his own. She'd seen the gesture often enough to know he was about to say something important, a speech about how much he loved her and how meant to be they were, was just around the corner. "You can't marry this guy," he said very directly, very earnestly, and he surely hoped she was somewhat considering his demand with how fiercely he was looking at her, willing her to understand just what it was that was still there between them.

"_What_?" she asked. He could not tell if the simple question was on the brink of denial or outrage that he'd been trying to tell her what to do again. Either way he sensed he was not winning. Losing meant he was a failure, and if there was one thing he couldn't fail at it was keeping her.

"We have so much history," he continued, prepared to charge on until the end. She couldn't deny him until he had his final say. "I love you. And I know you love me. I know deep down you still love me. And I've waited, Blair. I've waited for you to find yourself and you have. You're such a brilliant success and you're getting more successful every day. My P.I. doesn't lie," he added, trying to put in a lighter air temporarily. There were too many emotions swimming on her face, so he decided to keep talking before she lashed out at him. "I know things are pretty bad between you and Serena right now because of what happened with Humphrey, but you forgave her for Nate, and eventually this'll pass. It's not like you did it deliberately or…well, even if you did, things were rough and…" he sighed, realizing he'd lost his point.

"Chuck." She cut through his thoughts. But he didn't want her to. He knew if he let her start talking that it would be the end of him trying to convince her to call off the engagement. He needed to somehow find what he'd been trying to say again, and _say it_.

"I know it wasn't an official promise," he began again, barely grasping where he'd been headed before. His eyes found hers again and having been glued to the floor in his frustration. "But I took it like that. I never thought for a second we wouldn't find our way back to each other. It's always been you for me, Blair. I know that hasn't always been the case for you, but I just thought that maybe what we said meant something and—"

"You don't think I _meant_ what I said that night?" she asked, aghast. For a moment he stilled because he knew she was about to speak her mind, and he still hadn't finished. Somehow though, he had lost the ability to speak. The look on her face made him want to duck for cover, and the fact that she'd gone to set the dress and her purse on a nearby table did not decrease the probability of getting slapped for his forwardness.

"You are unbelievable, Chuck Bass. You catch a glimpse of one little Gossip Girl blast, and suddenly everything is wrong." She took a dangerous step towards him, the sound of her heels echoing enormously loud in his mind. "Okay, yes, I've been dating a prince from France. So what? Am I not allowed to have a little fun? Live out my bit of a fairytale while the rest of my life is in shambles?"

"I—"

"You assume, assume, assume," she continued on, her voice rising. He wondered if she was even aware of him anymore. "thinking everyone is out to get you, because then you'd have a legitimate excuse for destroying their lives when you almost never do." She huffed. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm dating "other people" right now because I know at the end of the day, when it comes down to it, it's going to be _you_! I'm going to end up with _you_!"

His face conformed to pure shock and awe. It was clear she was angry at him for not realizing what she'd said the minute he walked in the door, but he didn't care. For a whole forty-five seconds, he glowed with pride and elation, because she'd always planned on picking _him_, no matter what happened.

The seconds ended, however, and he remembered his original cause in coming. He shook himself of the spell she'd put him under, even in her anger.

"I just don't see," he ground out, "how you can still plan on us when you're off marrying the King of England!" He didn't mean to shout, but his emotions had been bubbling up and it seemed she was mad at him now, which was better than nothing he figured.

"He's from France!" she yelled back. He scoffed, and she huffed, shoving past him on her way to the elevator. "You are unbelievable," she muttered under her breath. He dashed after her and stood in front of the elevator, preventing her access even before the doors opened. "Move, Chuck."

"No. Not until you tell me what happened. I think I deserve to know how you fell out of love with me." It made no sense with the confession she'd just given him, but since he'd switched gears back to being pissed at her again, he recalled how he'd felt on the way over. Declaration or not, he knew it was entirely too possible for her to believe she'd stopped loving him and had moved on to someone else, even if her _plan_ was to come back to him in the end. Maybe he'd even heard her wrong just now.

Her head reared back a little bit. He was stubborn and determined and angry and defiant and in denial, but behind all that he was heartbroken. She saw it plain as day. The fear that he was going to lose her, even if she'd just told him otherwise, that maybe he'd already lost her was shining in his eyes. She huffed again and crossed her arms across her chest in an effort to look annoyed, but she knew she was going to give in. The only time his gaze made her walk away was when he'd done something wrong. There was nothing she could use against him besides his relentless accusations, and she knew, regarding their history, that was hardly enough.

"What makes you think you deserve to know anything about me?" she dared, taking on an opposite approach. He took the remaining steps towards her, hoping she wouldn't curve around him when the elevator doors opened.

"Because up until now I've known everything, and it pisses me off that I've missed a page."

He looked angry, pissed that his ego had perhaps been wounded. But she still saw the hurt in his eyes and it was literally starting to tear her apart that she didn't just tell him all that happened.

"You make too many assumptions, Chuck Bass," she said, giving him a once-over. His brows furrowed, confused. She sighed, her arms dropping to her sides and still somehow keeping her dress from reaching the floor. "Yes, Louis proposed, but I didn't say yes."

Somewhere inside him a speck of hope reignited itself. He was sure it was obvious on his face that he was relieved already. She hadn't said yes. She wasn't set to marry the prince of France and become the next princess, to let herself be swept away in the fairytale she'd always wanted to be the star of. He would have let himself feel guilty for being glad those dreams couldn't happened if he wasn't so overwhelmed with joy.

"The pictures of me 'squealing', as you put it, are from before he proposed, when he told me where we were going to eat for dinner – my favorite restaurant, where my daddy always took me when I was a little girl. The hand-holding came around that time too. I imagine what happened after the denied proposal didn't look too Gossip-Girl worthy," she finished. She was about to lecture him for all his accusations and assumptions, not to mention the hurt that he hadn't needed to even _think_ about feeling. But every single thought regarding any of that disappeared the moment after when he lunged at her and kissed her hard, just as the elevator doors opened.

She gasped and looked at him with wide eyes when he finally pulled away. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were fierce, looking at her as if she held the ocean in her gaze and he had to hunt until he found the treasure chest buried at the bottom.

"Please tell me you don't really have to go," he breathed roughly. She looked at him sympathetically and with a tiny smile touched the side of his face and held her hand there.

"I do," she said softly. His face fell again, and she reminded herself how very much he depended on her and needed her, how desperate he always had been for her love. For such a successful high-to-do businessman, he was a sweet romantic at heart. "But you can come with me if you like," she offered, the curve of her lips kicking up a few notches. His expression moved to a wide smile in a heartbeat. It made her heart beat faster, seeing him all lit up like that. He nodded quickly. She smirked and moved to go in the elevator and he followed her. Once they were inside, he turned to her and took her hand in his own. She looked up at him when he did so.

"Take me everywhere, Blair," he requested softly, his searching eyes blocking everything else from her gaze. "I've waited long enough." Her gaze was warm as it met his pleading, desperate eyes, and she nodded.

"Okay," she said.

She thought it looked like he was just going to kiss the back of her hand, but the action was just a lure of pulling her to him until their faces were barely a breath apart. He kissed her slowly and she felt him tremble as he held her. Her heart beat faster than ever. This was exactly where she belonged. She knew it long before she broke up with Louis a week prior. His last ditch effort to keep her by proposing had been futile. Even if Chuck hadn't gotten shot trying to protect his engagement ring for her, no one could have compared, not even a prince. She would always come back to Chuck.

"I love you," she breathed when they finally came up for air. He smiled against her.

"I know you do," he said cockily.

"Basshole," she murmured, a smile slipping through as she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him to her so she could kiss him again. Shivers flooded her body when she felt his hand on her waist and in her hair. She would never get tired of it, she thought, the feel of him clinging so tightly to her because he was afraid he'd fall if he let go. The magic surrounding them would never fade. She knew there would never be anyone better suited for each other than them. No guarantee of royalty and fairytales could have changed her mind about that. She had promised him her love and her life in the back of his limo three years before, whether she knew it then or not. No one could be her happily ever after now but him.

The fading chuckle dissipating in the depths of his throat warmed her soul. She pulled her phone out quickly before she completely lost herself in the embrace, and snapped a picture of them kissing. She sent it to Gossip Girl.

_Take that, Gossip Bitch._

….

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. I think it's very pretty. Lol.


End file.
